


the first dinner

by crescentlunae



Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: Family Bonding, Fluff, I guess???, Missing Scene, and let him be surrounded by love and kindness, everything is Soft and Good, give francesco the family he deserves, inspired by a chat w/ @ swanlaurences on tumblr, might come back and edit this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 05:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17861273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentlunae/pseuds/crescentlunae
Summary: Francesco goes to a family dinner at the Medici household for the first time and doesn't know what to expect.or, Mother Hen Lucrezia is actually the Best Mom and everyone's mom. No one can escape her motherly love.





	the first dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [syari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/syari/gifts).



> i was talking with @swanlaurences on tumblr about lucrezia and francesco's dynamic and how she would immediately mother him and bring him into the family because she's definitely a "mother hen" who would f i g h t for any of her children, and when guglielmo comes into the family, that includes he and francesco now
> 
> and here's the product of that!

There was not much in the way of ideas of comfort when Francesco found his way back to Florence.

He was often away, traveling, doing some errand for the banks or for Jacopo, and he took comfort in his travels. He met many interesting people, beautiful faces, and didn’t shy away from spending romantic evenings when he managed to catch someone’s eyes— or the other way around.

But coming back home was always bittersweet. He loved his brother, and he cared for his uncle, but there was always a cold draft in Florence that could never be patched up. Walking through the doorway to his home, he removed his cloak over his head and draped it over his arm. 

He knew both Guglielmo and Jacopo were out, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of resting in his bed after such a long travel back to the city. Ever since he had sided against Jacopo and voted for the Medici, the cold draft of Florence seemed to take over his own home. He didn’t regret his actions— he would always stay faithful to his brother— be he couldn’t shake away the ice that seemed to grow along the walls whenever he stepped into his home. Rolling back his shoulders and letting a hand rake through the waves that had stuck to his forehead, Francesco entered his room and removed his outer garments before falling into bed. He had to meet with the Medici for supper, and now was as good a time as any to catch a quick moment to breathe.

* * *

 

Francesco stood at the doors to the Medici household. He knew there would be someone to open the door for him and lead him to the dining room, but he hesitated as he stood on the front steps of the home, torchlight illuminating his sharp features. It had been years since he had last stepped inside this home. Memories of he and Guglielmo sneaking in to see Lorenzo and Giuliano as children danced in his mind before those late night visits became fewer and fewer, and Jacopo’s lectures became louder and louder. 

We are Pazzis. They are Medicis. 

And yet, a Pazzi has become a Medici.

The thought confused him, wondering how things have managed to circle so far away and back together again. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Why was he here? Why was he being invited? Why did they not see what had been told to him all his life? Before he realized it, his hands reached out for the cool metal door knocker, and the large wooden doors of the Medici home were open to him again. 

“Francesco!” a familiar voice called out to him. Lucrezia’s calm, smiling face greeted him as she placed both of her hands gently on each side of his shoulders and gave them a squeeze. Francesco body jolted. He expected more, something to follow, but Lucrezia had let go just as soon as she touched him. “Come in, come. You’re just in time. Guglielmo has been telling stories of when you two were boys,” she said, leading him inside with one hand outstretched and the other hovering over Francesco’s back.

Francesco politely smiled, listening to her talk and guide him along, and could not help but feel a strange, familiar comfort in being there again. To be touched so naturally again. Sure, he had been with many people romantically, sexually— touch was nothing new to him. But Lucrezia’s hands ushering him along brought a small memory back to his mind of his parents— who were more imaginary than reality. A flicker of a smile that looked like his own. The shine of eyes that reminded him of his brother, but softer, rounder, and filled with the haze of a dream. He remembered pieces, and he didn’t know how they fitted together, but Lucrezia had brought back an instant he had long thought to be a construction of his own mind rather than any reality he had ever experienced. His smile tugged further at the corners of his mouth before he shook his head, stepping in front of Lucrezia and taking her hand just before the entrance to the dining room. 

“Thank you, Ma donna Medici, for extending an invitation into your home,” he said, bowing his head and placing a kiss to the ring on her finger. He imagined what his own mother would have said as he stood bowing to the woman who she has promised her youngest son to be wedded to her daughter. He wondered if Lucrezia herself ever cared for his parents, or if she knew about the kindness Contessina de’ Medici had showed him when most of his family had been ripped away from him and his brother. He wondered if she could feel the things that only a mother could feel for their children through him. He feared if the latter was true.

But Lucrezia simply smiled again, taking her hand back and placing both of them on his. “Come now. No need for that. From today on, you are welcome here anytime you would like. I know Lorenzo is eager to see you again. It will be nice to see you boys together again. It’s been,” she paused, flashes of memory filled with pain and joy and one where Lorenzo emerged from seeing his grandmother for the last time, pain welling in his young, glassy eyes, but his face set with a determination that felt too old for him to know yet. She patted Francesco’s hand, releasing it and looking up into the eyes of a young boy who had lost both of his parents and already knew the burden of the future he had to carry on his shoulders.

It was the same look.

“It has been too long. It’s time to rest. I will make sure that the cooks send you home with some cakes, hm?” Lucrezia smiled, folding her hands together and watching as Francesco bowed his head to her and entered the dining room. 

“Ah, Francesco!” Lorenzo’s voice filled with music and laughter echoed in the hall. “We thought you’d never make it.”

Francesco smirked, collapsing his arm around Lorenzo’s shoulders as the other did the same, patting each other’s backs and the went further into the room lit with smiles and candlelight. “What, and miss out on those cakes Guglielmo hasn’t stopped talking about? Not on your life, Medici.”

Lucrezia sighed in relief. Seeing so many smiling faces— Bianca and Guglielmo laughing at the table, Clarice and Giuliano chatting away at something before Clarice turned to Bianca in amused shock over what was said, and even Sandro clasping Giuliano’s shoulder trying to stable himself from laughter— it was a painting she wished to keep forever. A vision of happiness she couldn’t believe to be seeing after so long. All of them, so young yet worn with age from years of fighting to stay alive— to thrive. She wondered if they too could finally breathe with ease.

Taking one last look at the vision before entering the room, she wondered if Contessina could see her family now. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'll be accepting small drabble prompts on my tumblr @literaetures to post on here, so if you have ideas, feel free to send them my way!


End file.
